


Family (it's a funny little thing, isn't it?)

by snow_covered_hills



Series: Higher Love [2]
Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Angst, DOMESTIC GAYS, Dead relatives, Established Relationship, F/F, Family Issues, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, LOTS of stuff from Carol's past, Marriage Proposal, Mild Language, Past Child Abuse, Sibling Death, carol has family issues, idk how tags work guys, in terms of her family, kind of canonical character death?, loosely following carol's backstory from the comics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-26 18:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19773991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snow_covered_hills/pseuds/snow_covered_hills
Summary: Carol never really had a proper family, until Maria and Monica came into her life. Now that she knows what it feels like, she'll be damned if she's ever going to let it go.





	Family (it's a funny little thing, isn't it?)

Carol wakes up first, per usual.

Maria's arm is draped across her chest, her face resting on Carol's shoulder, snoring quietly. The sunlight streaming in through the crack in their curtains casts a golden beam across Maria's face, giving her skin a warm glow in the morning light. Carol gently traces a finger down Maria's cheek, taking a moment just to appreciate the tranquility on her face. Maria is her favorite thing to wake up to, and to fall asleep with, and Carol relishes these brief instances in time where she can slow down and enjoy the moment, savor it. Just the two of them. They haven't gotten much time to themselves since Pegasus and Monica began occupying nearly all their time, so Carol takes what she can get.

She's quickly reminded of the latter's presence with a sharp knee to her ribs. Carol recoils slightly, and turns to look at the offending toddler on her other side, still asleep. She chuckles and slowly pulls the blanket higher up to cover the girl's shoulders. Carol leans back and closes her eyes, both her hands absentmindedly stroking Maria and Monica's hair, and a warm wave of emotion washes over her all of a sudden. She thinks of what a long and hard journey it was to this point, to get this family. _Her_ family. She thinks back to the last time she'd loved and felt loved so much in return. She can't seem to come up with anything. Not even the people who were supposed to be her family made her feel as comfortable and safe as Maria and Monica did every day.

Family was almost a foreign word to Carol Danvers. Obviously she knew what it meant. What it was supposed to mean, anyway. In her younger years, she thought she knew how it was supposed to feel, but she couldn’t quite make the connection between the word and that feeling.

Her father was supposed to be family. He was supposed to be security and love, and guidance. Joe Danvers was none of those things. He was a drunk, and a screamer, and a hitter. Nothing Carol did was ever good enough for him. Eventually she’d given up trying to win his love. 

Her mother was supposed to be warmth and reassurance and understanding. She was supposed to dry Carol's tears and help her find laughter in life. She was supposed to guide Carol through growing up and relationships and school. Marie Danvers might've given Carol these things, but she never got the chance. She died not long after Carol was born. Carol doesn’t know how. She’d asked her father once, and he'd answered her with his fists. 

The closest she’d gotten to feeling “family” were those nights she spent with her brother Stevie, staring up at the night sky, reveling in his endless tales of the stars, the planets, and the legends that came with them. She credited her knowledge of the stars to those summer nights with him, before he went off to the army and left her at the mercy of their father. Stevie made her feel like “family” was something real, not some abstract concept she’d read in a book. 

That feeling was destroyed in an instant with a single phone call from her father, brief but devastating, telling Carol her brother was dead. In that moment, Her family was gone. Snuffed out like a match in the rain. She'd shut out all prospects of ever finding that feeling again. Of ever belonging again. She would tell herself it was okay, that she didn't need anyone else. All she needed was herself and the sky. Maria Rambeau wouldn't have it. Not for a second. She'd wormed her way into Carol's heart the moment they'd met on day one of the academy. When Carol got the call about Stevie, Maria had rushed to her side. Carol let herself fall to pieces in her roommate's arms.

She wouldn’t realize it then, but Maria was her new family. She’d come to learn in time that her home was in this woman’s arms. Family wouldn't mean someone she shared blood with anymore. Family wasn't the name "Danvers", it was the feeling of Maria’s face nuzzled into her neck, Maria’s fingers tangled in her hair, Maria’s lips on hers. It was something she'd hold close to her heart, and protect it with everything she had. Even before their relationship became deeper than just “best friends”, Carol felt Maria was the closest thing she would ever find again to family. Being with her felt right, it felt comfortable. It felt like coming home. 

They’d supported each other throughout the academy, through basic training, flight school, and finally as pilots. Whatever trials or hardships were thrown at them, they tackled together. When things looked insurmountable, if nothing else, Carol had Maria. Maria who would wake her up in the morning for PT if Carol had overslept, who invited her home for Thanksgiving and Christmas every year when she learned of Carol’s family situation, who would stay up with her to study for their exams, and hold her back whenever Carol would stupidly try to pick a fight with some cocksure pilot twice her size who’d made some sexist remark to the two of them. 

Carol thought she knew what family felt like. Stevie taught her that much, but Maria taught her what it means. All the things Maria did for her, from something as simple as sliding Carol her muffin at breakfast when Carol scarfed down her meal in a fraction of the time it took Maria, to letting Carol move in with her after they graduated. "For the sake of convenience", she said. Maria gave her support, and love, and understanding, unconditionally. She gave her everything her family was supposed to give her, and Carol vowed she would repay her. She tried to, every single day, even now. She helps around the house when something needs to get done, she takes care of Monica like she's her own, and she tries her hardest to make things easier on Maria. There's nothing in the world she wouldn't do for the woman sleeping in her arms right now, and Carol hopes she knows that. She hopes Maria knows the depths of her love for her and Monica.

She loved Maria Rambeau long before their lips had met for the first time. She isn’t sure when it started, but it hardly matters. She'd never been overcome by anything as powerful as what she felt for Maria. She thought she had no room in her heart for love, and Maria proved her so, so wrong. When Monica was born, and Carol held her goddaughter for the first time, she was proved wrong again. Nestled next to Maria in the cramped hospital bed, looking back and forth between her best friend and the tiny miracle in her arms, she realized just how wrong she was. In that moment she knew no love in the universe could ever surpass that which she felt for her best friend, and the new addition to their family. Her _real_ family.

* * *

She thinks to herself, whatever she thought family meant, that's out the window. She had it wrong before. Family is Maria wrapped around Carol’s right side and Monica curled up on her left, both sleeping soundly late into the morning. Carol’s arms envelop them both, and she stops herself from squeezing them tightly, holding onto them, onto this, as hard as she can. She can’t lose this. This love, this _family_ , this perfect feeling welling up in her chest, threatening to burn her alive in the best way possible, like everything she's ever wanted or hoped for is right here in this bed, in this tiny house in California. She stares at Monica, sucking her thumb in her sleep, and remembers how desolate and angry she felt as a child because of her "family". She vows Monica will never feel that way. She's never going to yell at this child, never going to abandon her, and she's damn sure never going to hit her. The thought of giving Monica anything other than every ounce of love she has in her makes Carol's heart ache. She promises to herself that she'll be everything for Monica that Joe Danvers wasn't for her. Monica is going to grow up knowing family means safety, and love, and laughter, and all the things Carol never had. Carol swears this to herself.

She regards her two loves, sandwiching her in the bed, and thinks to herself not for the first time in recent years that she doesn’t want to live without this. All she wants is Maria and Monica and their perfectly imperfect life together, for the rest of eternity. She thinks to herself why not make it official? Or, as official as it can be in 1987. She slips out of bed, exceedingly careful not to wake either of the two sleeping Rambeaus. She kisses the foreheads of both of them, light as a feather, and shrugs her jacket on as she walks out the door. She knows exactly where she’s going, and what she needs to do. 

* * *

The ring she settles on isn’t exactly Disney princess caliber, but it’s perfect for Maria. Carol is all too familiar with her best friend’s disdain for fancy jewelry. She knows Maria better than she knows herself in some ways, and she’s sure this is the ring for her. She fondles the sleek, twisted silver band in her fingers, thumb grazing over the small diamond protruding slightly from the center, and the tiny ones embedded in the band around it. This is the one, she thinks to herself. A voice somewhere in the store pulls her attention away from the dazzling piece of silver. 

“That’s a fine ring! Who’s it for?” 

The shopkeeper approaches her, a woman of about 60, Carol guesses. 

“My friend.” She lies. It’s all she can think of. She doesn’t know this woman, but she knows enough about her generation to assume that she should play it safe. California might be one of the more liberal states, but Carol decides she can't be too careful, especially being in the military. 

“He’s planning to propose to his girl and tasked me with picking up the ring.” 

The shopkeeper smiles warmly at her. Carol attempts to return the smile, relieved her lie seems to have worked. 

“Well aren’t you a sweetheart. You know, that one comes with a matching band for the groom.” 

Carol almost laughs at the word “groom”. She supposes that's her. She feels a slight twinge of annoyance at the heteronormativity in the statement, but her interest is piqued nonetheless. Matching rings wasn’t something that had occurred to her, but she likes the idea. She raises an eyebrow and the shopkeeper shuffles over to her, extracting a box from the glass case next to Carol and presenting it to her. Carol opens it to find the same ring she’s holding, laid delicately on the left side of the silk lined box, alongside a slightly thicker, wider band of hammered silver, no diamonds encrusted on it, but no less radiant than its counterpart. Carol tries to conceal the smile spreading across her face as she takes in the two rings. 

“These are perfect.” She manages to get out. The shopkeeper nods and takes the box from her, moving behind the counter. She asks Carol for sizes, if she wants to add anything to the rings, if she wants the box gift wrapped, and a slew of other questions. It’s nearly lunchtime by the time Carol leaves the store with a receipt and a promise from the shopkeeper that the rings will be sized and ready for pickup by the end of the day. 

* * *

She silently unlocks the front door and slips into the modest one-story house the three of them share, padding across the floor with the dexterity of a teenager who just snuck out of the house. She's just about to congratulate herself on her stealth when a familiar voice stops her dead in her tracks.

"And where the hell have _you_ been?" 

Carol's gaze shoots up to meet Maria's probing eyes. She hadn't anticipated this. She gives her a sheepish smile.

"I uh....had to run out...to get......bread." She stumbles over her words, spitting out what is possibly the most unconvincing lie she's ever told in her life. 

Maria crosses her arms, her expression equally amused and puzzled. "You went out to get bread? At 9am on a Saturday?" 

Carol opens her mouth but no words come out. She never was much good at keeping things from Maria. She decides to just stick with her story. It’s too late now. She nods, making an affirmative grunt, rubbing the back of her neck, hoping Maria can’t tell how much she’s sweating.

Maria looks to the pantry, then looks back at Carol, taking note of her empty hands. “So did they not have any, or…?” 

Shit. 

Carol realizes she does not in fact, have any bread with her. 

“Uh… yeah, they’re out” 

“They’re out...of all the bread?” 

“Mm-hm.” 

Maria starts to say something else but Monica comes barreling down the hall, interrupting her. 

“Auntie Carol!!”

Carol breathes a sigh of relief, grateful for the bail-out courtesy of the boisterous two year old. 

“Hey, Lieutenant Trouble! Wanna give me a hand with breakfast?” She scoops Monica up in her arms and sits her on her hip, shooting Maria an innocent smile. 

“Pancakes!” Monica exclaims. 

Maria narrows her eyes at Carol, trying to hide the smile creeping across her face. She points a threatening finger in her direction. 

“This ain’t over, Danvers.” She says lowly, and Carol swallows nervously, because she knows it isn’t. She’s going to need to come up with a better story, and fast.

* * *

After breakfast, Carol washes the last of the plates and slides it into the dish rack, drying her hands on her shirt. She stares out the window, watching the neighbors wash their car. She watches the father playfully point the hose at his daughter, watches her squeal and run away from the stream, laughing hysterically. Carol smiles, but it quickly fades as she thinks of herself at that age. Running away from her father was for survival, not fun. He’d never engage in such lighthearted acts with her. He’d probably just hit her with the hose, Carol thinks. She wonders if that’s what killed her mother. Being married to him. Carol feels a pang of fear in her chest. She knows realistically she’d never turn out to be an abusive scumbag like Joe Danvers, but deep down, she still harbors a fear of becoming her father. Maria would tell her not to worry, that everyone is scared of becoming their parents when they grow up. She'd tell Carol that she's a good person, and could never become a monster like her father. But what if she _does_ turn out like him? Carol can't help but think of it. _No_. She shakes the thought out of her head. No way in hell. There’s no way Maria or Monica will ever look at her with fear in their eyes. She’d rather die than let that happen. 

Setting that aside, part of her still wonders whether “marrying” her is even what Maria wants. She knows it’s not legal, it probably won’t be for a very long time. They might never be able to be open with their love. She might never be able to hold Maria's hand in public. She knows legally they won’t have any rights as a married couple, and beyond making Carol Monica’s guardian, and Carol making Maria her next of kin on her military forms, there’s not much they can do. For a second she’s filled with a cloud of dread and reconsiders her decision. Why did she even think of this? It’s stupid, it’s pointless, an empty gesture, Maria probably won’t even--

She feels arms slide around her waist. Lips press to the back of her neck. Maria’s head comes to rest on her shoulder as she presses her front flush against Carol’s back. The dread passes like a fleeting shadow, and she relaxes into the touch, turning her head so Maria can kiss her cheek. 

“Thanks for breakfast.” Maria smiles at Carol warmly.

Carol smiles in return, trying to force the fear and sad memories from her face. 

Maria can tell her mind is elsewhere, though. She releases Carol and leans back against the sink next to her, gently swiping a clump of soapy foam from Carol’s shirt with her finger. 

“Where’s your head at, girl?” She asks, her eyes regarding Carol’s face.

Carol looks back at her. “Just thinking about stuff.” 

“That ‘stuff’ have anything to do with why you were out pretending to buy bread at 9 in the morning?” 

Carol scoffs. “Maybe.” She gives Maria a smirk, the tension in her chest temporarily lifted. She thinks to herself maybe the gesture itself is pointless, but the meaning behind it is not. She can think of no better way to show Maria her appreciation and commitment and love. If they can't legally marry for another 40 years, who cares? They'll have each other, just like they always did. 

“Seriously, what were you doing?”

Carol searches for the words, and comes up empty. She sighs and moves into Maria’s space. 

“Tell you later. I promise.” She places a quick peck on Maria’s cheek and heads to the living room to join Monica on the couch, gleefully watching cartoons, oblivious to the conversation the two of them just had. 

Maria watches her go, puzzled. “Hey, you okay?” She calls after her. 

Carol throws a reassuring smile over her shoulder. “Always!”

It’ll have to do for now.

* * *

The jewelry store calls the house while Maria is cooking dinner. Carol's never run to a phone so fast in her life. Breathless, she yanks the phone off its place on the wall and tries to sound as normal as possible when she answers. Maria watches her, bewildered.

“Hello? Yes. Now? Okay, I’ll be right there!” She hangs up and runs over to Maria, kissing her on the cheek. 

“I gotta run out, but I’ll be back in time for dinner!” 

Maria gives her a confused look. 

  
“Whoa whoa, hold on a second. What just happened?” 

Carol wracks her brain trying to come up with an excuse. She settles on work. 

“Uhh.. Lawson has some documents she needs us to sign. I’m just gonna go pick them up real quick.” 

Maria stares at Carol, waiting for her to go on. Carol tries to fluff up her lie.

  
“She needs them by tomorrow morning so I’m just gonna go get them now, and uh...we can sign them tonight and...turn them in tomorrow morning. Yeah.” 

  
Carol gives Maria a forced confident smile. Maria squints at her, still not saying anything. She can see right through Carol’s bullshit, as always, but she’s not sure what Carol’s covering up. She decides she'll wheedle it out of her later, and lets it go. For now.

“Who’s gonna help me peel these potatoes then, Danvers?” She gestures to the counter. Carol moves forward and takes Maria’s hands. 

“I know, I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you.” She promises, pulling her in for a kiss, soft and sweet, before pulling back and giving her a placating smile. 

Maria narrows her eyes at Carol again. “Mmm-hm, got that right.” She lets go of Carol’s hands and returns to the stove.

“Go on, then. But you better not be late for dinner!” Maria points a spatula at her as Carol throws her jacket on and opens the front door. 

“‘Course not!” Carol replies.

“AND you’re doing the dishes!” Maria grins as Carol freezes. She gives Maria a pained expression. 

“What? You said you’d make it up to me!” Maria’s smile spreads at Carol’s visible discomfort. It quickly fades as Carol accepts her fate and continues out the door. 

“Yeah, I guess I did...Okay it’s a deal. Love you!” Carol shouts over her shoulder as she all but sprints to her car. 

Maria shakes her head and sighs, still confused as hell, but patient. Carol will tell her what’s going on eventually. If not, Maria has ways of making her talk. 

“Love you too.” She says under her breath.

* * *

About an hour later, Carol, ring box stowed safely in the pocket of her jacket, tries to still the pounding of her heart as she sits across from Maria at the dinner table. Maria can tell something is off, but she's at a loss for what it is. Carol falls silent, letting her thoughts carry her away. She lets doubt seep back into her heart again as she thinks about Maria and her, about Monica, about the life they have. She's terrified of losing it, of screwing it up somehow. Maria loves her, of that she has no doubt, and she's been patient with her all these years, when Carol was reckless, or foolhardy, or let her anger get the best of her. Carol can't help but wonder if Maria's patience has a limit. If one day she’ll get tired of Carol’s wild heart and devil may care attitude. If she’ll realize this whole thing was a mistake. What would happen to her family then? 

She watches Maria coax a spoonful of pasta into Monica’s mouth, thinks about all the memories they’ve made together, all the memories she wants to make with these two. She decides it’s worth it. Whatever heartache may or may not come from this, Maria is worth it. Monica is worth it. She never wants to stop making memories with these two -- her _family_. The weight of the word cements in Carol's mind, and she fights the tears coming to her eyes. Maria catches her eye, and Carol gives her the softest of smiles. Maria returns it, a hint of concern in her eyes. Carol gives her a look which she hopes conveys that she'll explain later. She takes a deep breath and steels herself, casting her doubts and fears aside. It's time to be brave. Tonight she is going to ask Maria Rambeau to marry her. 

* * *

Monica falls asleep at the table and Carol gently carries her to her room, formerly Carol's room, before she and Maria had begun sharing a bed. She lays the sleeping child down in her crib and kisses the top of her head, flicking her nightlight on before leaving the room. 

Maria is waiting for her in the hallway. She extends her hand and Carol takes it, bringing her free hand up to cup Maria's face, gently running her thumb along her cheek. Maria closes her eyes briefly at the touch, then moves closer to Carol, the concern returning to her face. 

"Carol, baby, what's going on?" She whispers. 

Carol only smiles in response. She places a chaste kiss to Maria's lips and pulls her out of the hallway and into the living room. 

"Wanna sit on the hood with me?" She asks, a playful smile gracing her face. 

The concern hasn't faded from Maria's eyes, but she lets it go for now. "Sure. Now?" She asks. 

“The dishes can wait.” Carol declares, dragging Maria along and out the door, snatching their jackets off the coat rack as she goes. 

“Oh can they, now?” Maria raises an eyebrow at Carol, but going along with her nonetheless. 

Their tradition of laying on the hood of Carol’s car dates back to their days at the academy. Fresh out of high school, the two were thrown into a whole new world with planes and push ups and constant yelling. It was easy to feel overwhelmed. Even before the academy, Carol would wind down by laying under the night sky, listening to the plane engines roar as they took off from the air base near her house. She’d close her eyes and try to guess which plane was flying overhead by the hum of its engine. It wasn’t long til she’d gotten Maria hooked on it. It became a game to them, a friendly competition to see who could correctly name the most planes. They’d do it almost every week. Now with their work at Pegasus and with a two year old to take care of, the two women had far less free time on their hands for such things. Tonight was a rare exception, and Carol intended to make the most out of it. 

They plop down on the hood, a blanket thrown loosely over their legs in case the cool breeze became too much. Their house rests a fair distance away from everyone elses. They have neighbors, but the houses are spaced out enough so they don't have to constantly interact with them. Carol and Maria's house sits on the very edge of the "neighborhood", with nothing but a grass field on the left side of it. Carol's mustang is tucked behind the left side of the house, safely sheltered from prying eyes and ears, but close enough to the front door that if Monica woke and needed them, they could be back inside in an instant. Maria still palms the baby monitor in her pocket, making sure the volume is all the way up just in case. Carol had laughed at her for using the monitor still, but she secretly didn't mind it. It gave her a sense of security, knowing she could hear if Monica was having a nightmare, or needed anything at all during the night.

Maria comfortably leans her head on Carol's shoulder as they stare up at the sky. The stars aren't as bright or as abundant here as they'd be out in the desert or the mountains, but it's plenty enough for them. They enjoy laying in comfortable silence for a bit, just being with each other. Maria talks about the new bird Lawson plans for them to fly, and Carol suggests they arm wrestle for who gets to fly it first. Maria laughs and tells Carol to enjoy watching her take off. Carol smiles, knowing full well Maria could kick her ass without breaking a sweat. She watches Maria enthuse about the bird, waving her hands around, her eyes ignited with the same fire she always gets when she’s passionate about something. When she climbs into a cockpit, when she’s about to give some arrogant jackass a piece of her mind. Carol’s eyes move over Maria’s face, over the features she’s long since committed to memory, and her heart swells impossibly big with adoration and she can’t contain herself anymore. Any thoughts of some romantic, rehearsed speech go flying out the window with the rest of her common sense and she just does it. Takes a flying leap off the edge of the cliff she’s been teetering on for what feels like ages. 

  
“Marry me.” she blurts out. 

Maria stops talking instantly. She looks at Carol and for a second, Carol sees the look of disbelief in her eyes and for a second she regrets saying anything. Her heart is pounding out of her chest, and she reminds herself to breathe. 

“What?” Maria raises her eyebrows, unsure if she heard Carol properly. Carol swallows. No going back now. 

“Marry me. Please.” 

Maria’s face softens and Carol can read happiness and hope in her eyes, but they’re quickly overcome by a wistful cloud. Maria’s eyes fall but she gives Carol a smirk to lighten the mood.

“You do know it’s not legal, right?” 

Carol nods. She cups Maria’s face with her hand. 

“I don’t care. I don’t need a piece of paper that says we’re married. I don’t need the government to recognize it. I just need you. Now, and forever. You’re all I want. You, and Monica, and this life we’ve built together. You’re my family, my home, and I wanna spend forever with you."

Carol has never looked more shy, yet sure of herself. Maria rests her hand over Carol’s, her eyes brimming with tears. She takes a shaky breath and licks her lips, like she always does before making a huge decision. 

“You’re serious?” She asks, her eyes locked with Carols. Carol nods. 

“If you’ll have me.” 

Maria lets out a small laugh as her eyes overflow. 

“I put up with you this long, haven’t I?” 

Carol laughs, her heart still pounding. Tears are coming to her eyes now, and she removes her hand from Maria’s face to rummage in her jacket pocket. She pulls out the ring box and carefully opens it, taking out the thin silver band and holding it up between them. 

“Is that a yes?” 

Maria nods, smiling through her tears. 

“Yes.” 

The cloud of fear and uncertainty in Carol’s mind immediately dissipates, and she smiles wider than she thinks she ever has as she reverently slides the ring onto Maria’s finger. She reaches over and wipes the tears from Maria’s eyes, and Maria does the same. She pulls Carol in and kisses her. Her hand grasps the back of Carol’s neck and Carol grips Maria’s waist, closing the distance between them. Maria slips her tongue between Carol's parted lips, eliciting a quiet moan from Carol, which brings a grin to her face. She deftly swings her leg over Carol’s and presses their chests together. Carol looks up at her with a mixture of arousal and awe. She still didn’t know how she got so lucky to call this woman her family. Maria’s gaze drifts to the ring box, notices the second ring resting inside. 

“Did you really get a matching set, Danvers?” She snickers. 

Carol shrugs, smirking. 

“Well yeah, I wasn’t about to split them up. They’re married!” 

Maria laughs. “Dumbass.” 

Carol’s smile spreads. “Yeah but I’m your dumbass.” 

Maria picks up the small box and carefully extracts the hammered silver band, examining it. She smiles softly and lifts Carol’s left hand in her own, bringing it to her lips before clearing her throat and holding the ring up in front of Carol’s face. 

“Carol Susan Jane Danvers, will you marry me?” Her tone comical, but her words entirely serious. 

Carol chuckles. “Hell yeah.” 

With that, Maria slides the ring onto Carol’s finger and cups her face with both her hands, pulling her up for a kiss.

“I love you, Carol Danvers.” Maria whispers into Carol’s mouth. 

“I love you, Maria Rambeau.” 

“Don’t think this gets you out of doing the dishes.” Maria mutters. Carol giggles. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Carol thinks her heart might burst with the amount of love flowing through it now. She knows this is the feeling she was missing all those years. This is the comfort, the safety, the pure unadulterated happiness of coming home. This is what family is _supposed_ to feel like, and Carol never wants to let it go. 

She knows nothing in this world is certain, especially not in their profession, but right now she doesn’t care. The idea of their mortality is the furthest thing from Carol’s mind right now, when Maria’s lips are glued to hers, and her hands wander up Carol’s body beneath her jacket. She’s drunk on this moment, and doesn’t care how fragile it is. She just closes her eyes and lets herself have this moment, and prays for millions more like it. 

Maria holds her tight and they lock eyes, sharing a look, a wordless vow. No matter what, they have each other. Just like always. Now, and forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Phew this took me a while. I pulled elements from the comics, the movie, and the book by liza palmer. I hope you guys like this :)


End file.
